Steps
by JAGgedIverson
Summary: They say the first step is the hardest.


Title: Steps

Author: JAGgedIverson

Rating:

Summary: They say the first step is the hardest.

Disclaimer: Not mine, but I play with them in my head.

Author's Note: Got the idea from "When You're Gone," by Avril Lavine. This has not been beta-ed, any mistakes are mine and you can get in line to smack me.

They say the first step is the hardest.

Elliot stood on the sidewalk and watched her walk towards the waiting cab. She was leaving. Going to God knows where, doing God knows what for the FBI. They were taking her away from him. He'd just found her and now she was leaving.

He felt the lump in his throat and the tell-tale sting in his eyes, but he forced it back. He had to be strong for her. He could shed a couple tears later, but right now he couldn't let her see he was as broken up about this as she was. He was the man; he was supposed to be the strong one. He would be strong for her; he could do this one thing for her.

When she reached the cab, she turned to look at him one final time. In that moment he saw everything. It was still dark with early morning, but he could clearly see the lone tear make a glistening streak down her face.

He was sitting on his couch, the one he bought for two-hundred dollars from the Penny Saver after he moved out. It was comfortable enough, not something he would sleep on voluntarily but he wouldn't wake up with a back ache if he did. He was nursing his first beer, watching the Knicks v. Bulls game from '93. The game wasn't on because he was interested; it was on purely to make noise. The crowd at the game provided just enough of a din to drown out his thoughts.

She was gone. Olivia was gone. She, like every other woman in his life, had left him. He knew she would be back, but the self loathing part of him focused only on the fact that she was leaving.

He wasn't angry; he figured that would come later. He wasn't sad, that would come after anger. He was simply lost. Olivia was his compass, his way to the world. He learned that when she did her little stint in computer crimes when he went of the handle and attacked the bastard that had been sitting in her chair. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her that she and the job were all he had left. Now, with her gone, all he had was the job. Look how well that turned out last time.

Irony was a bitch. The moment he figures out that he really can't do the job without her. The moment he tells her that he needs her, in his own bastardized way of course, she leaves.

A laugh bubbled up out of his throat at the thought. Of course when he was down and thought life had dealt him all that horrible hands it had to offer, fate would get one more swift kick in. The laughing continued to a near hysterical level before he stopped himself. He might be losing her to the frickin Feds, but he wouldn't go insane in the process.

"Elliot?"

Great, now he was hearing voices. Check him in, Doc, cuz he was certifiable.

"Elliot." Louder this time. Firmer. Not a figment of his imagination.

His head whipped around towards the sound to see Olivia standing in the doorway. The first thought that went through his head was she wasn't supposed to be here. The FBI was taking her away from him. She was gone, her phone was shut off, and there was no way to stop her or at least tell her that he would miss her.

He must've been staring too long, because he saw her start to fidget with the handle as she said. "I knocked."

As if that explained why she was standing on he doorstep, look at him and not on a plane taking her somewhere far away.

"Liv?" His voice cracked on her name and he had to clear his throat before he continued. "You're gone."

It was meant to be a question, but came out as more of a statement. She knew what he meant. She always knew.

"Not until morning." She looked into his eyes as he said it. She had to make sure he knew she wouldn't leave without saying goodbye. Not this time. "Can I come in?"

He shot up off the couch and opened the door further. She brushed past him on her way to the couch and he could smell the shampoo she'd used that morning, some fruity-coconut number. He shut and locked the door behind her before turning towards her. She was sitting the spot he had just vacated, looking at the TV.

_Say something profound. Say you're going to miss her. Tell her you love her and can't live without her._ Silence. "You want something to drink?"

Idiot.

"I'll take one of those if you've got it." She gestured to his hand that still held the beer.

Without a word he turned towards the kitchen. He grabbed two new beers and poured the warm one down the drain. Why did this feel different? It was just like any other night when she would come over to discus a case, or he would go over to her place. Granted that hadn't happened for a while, but this shouldn't feel any different than that. So why did he feel different? Why did he have butterflies in his stomach? Why were his palms sweaty? Why should it matter? She was still his partner, always would be no matter where she went. He needed to shake this off and get back out there before she started to wonder. He popped the tops on the beers and headed back out to the living room, praying she wouldn't notice whatever it was that was making him feel this way.

"Basketball, Elliot?" She asked once he sat down and handed the beer to her.

"I needed the noise. Wasn't really watching it." He reached to turn it off, but her hand on his stopped him.

"Leave it on." Her hand stayed in his even though its purpose was finished.

He stared down at her hand on his, mesmerized by how small hers was compared to his. Her fingers were long and elegant, while his were thick and man-ish. There was strength there, in her hands. He never once doubted their capabilities. He watched as his hand turned over of its own accord and laced his fingers through hers.

Soft. The skin of her hand was so soft. Moving his beer out of the way, he used two hands to explore her one. He traced the vein that ran down her hand and followed it up her arm, stopping at her elbow. Goosebumps rose on her skin in a trail left by his fingers.

"Elliot." Her voice was a whisper, barely there like the touches he was using on her skin.

His left hand gripped hers tighter and his right one stopped moving as he looked up into her face, into her eyes.

"I can't lose you, Liv." It was sound in a rough whisper. The air in his lungs trapped by some mysterious force that was pressing down on his chest.

Her eyes closed and a shiver racked her body. He watched her eyes move beneath the lids. He wanted nothing more than to make her open them so he could see, but he remained quiet. Waiting.

Her eyes were still closed, but she answered him. "It's only for a little while, Elliot. It's not forever."

"Look at me." He waited until she opened her eyes before he continued. "Promise you'll come back?"

She searched his eyes, searched his soul. Her hand tightened on his, "I promise I'll be back."

His hand was crushing hers, he knew this but she didn't seem to mind. He held her gaze for a little while longer, before nodding and turning back to the TV. He loosened his grip on her hand, but didn't let go.

A comfortable silence grew between them as they settled into the couch and each other. Neither was watching the game, but both were focusing on the feel of the other's hand in theirs. The little things that they'd never taken the time to notice before.

"Hey, Liv?"

"Yeah, El."

"Where you going?"

"Don't know yet. I'll find out when I get there I guess." Her hand squeezed his in a show of acknowledgement. She would hurt too.

"Will you call?" Squeeze.

"I'll call."

The answer seemed to satisfy him and a comfortable silence once more settle around them.

The Bulls game ended eventually, neither really watching, and gave way to the '97 Stanley Cup Finals game. It was during the 2nd quarter when Olivia spoke again.

"Hey, El?"

"Yeah, Liv."

"Promise me something?"

He turned his head so he could look at her. Her eyes were downcast and her free hand was picking at a string on her jeans. "Anything."

"Promise me you won't like your new partner?" The corner of her mouth lifted in a sad smile, but she didn't look at him.

"Liv. Hey," He used his free hand to tip her chin up and tilt her face towards him. When she finally met his eyes he continued. "You're my partner. Got that? No temporary shmuck is going to come in here and take your place. Not a chance."

"Okay." She lips tilted up in a small smile, and he found is eyes drawn to her mouth for a second before a matching grin graced his face.

"Okay."

They both grew tired as the evening wore on and somewhere between hockey and baseball their positions on the couch changed. Elliot moved to one end while Olivia stretched out and used his thigh as a pillow. Nothing was spoken; nothing needed to be. As they both settled down, Elliot's hand found its way into her hair and he gently combed his fingers though the soft strands. He watched as her eyes fought to stay open.

"You can go to sleep, Liv. I'll wake you up later."

She looked up at him, "I don't want to."

He smiled softly down at her. "You gotta sleep, Liv. You've gotta look fresh for they Feds. Can't have you givin the NYPD a bad name."

She reached up and took his hand in hers. "You gotta sleep, too."

"Don't want to." His eyes traced her features, trying to memorize everything about the way she looked stretched out on his couch with her head in his lap. She was relaxed, maybe for the first time in months, and she was with him. Her brown hair was spread out on his leg and it softer than anything he'd felt before. How could he go to sleep and miss one second of this?

"How 'bout we don't sleep…together?" She suggested with a sly smile on her lips.

A matching grin graced his lips, "After you."

She rolled off the couch and held out her hand to him. He took it and stood, but didn't start walking. She turned hack around when he tugged on her hand.

"El?"

He just stared back at her. God, she was beautiful. With her eyes staring questioningly back at him and her hand in his.

"Hey, Liv?" His voice was like velvet on gravel.

"Yeah, El?" She was short of breath, and there was a magnetic-like pull that was making her close the distance between them.

He waited til their torsos were a breath away before he said, "Can I kiss you?"

The breath wooshed out of her and their eye contact was broken when hers closed. "God, Elliot."

Her free hand came up between them to rest on his chest, not pushing him away but not pulling him closer either. He knew she could feel the jack hammer pace his heart had taken up in his chest beneath her hand. He watched the emotions play over her face. He saw confusion, desperation, fear, and he hoped what might be desire. He brought his free hand up to frame her face and her eyes snapped open. He moved closer until their noses brushed and their lips touched when he spoke.

"I really want to kiss you, Liv." He felt her fingers tighten around his reflexively. "Can I, Liv? Can I kiss you?"

Her tongue came out to moisten her lips and when he felt it touch his own an involuntary groan rumbled out of his chest. He could taste her on his lips when he pressed them together, but he didn't close the distance between. If it was going to happen, it would happen because she wanted it to.

"Tell me, Liv. Tell me I can kiss you." His eyes remained open and on hers, silently persuading and asking.

Her answer was silent. Her eyes remained locked on his as she closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. Firm, soft, and barely long enough for him to feel anything. She pulled back enough to see his eyes clearly.

"Kiss me, Elliot."

A moan escaped his lips as he crushed them to hers. He released her hand and traced it up her arm to her face. He held her face in his hands, fingers combed through her hair and thumbs gently settled in her cheeks. Her lips tasted like cherries and when his tongue came out to taste she opened her mouth to him. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him as close as possible. The only thing separating them was clothing.

Elliot couldn't get enough of her. She smelled like fruit, spice, and something he could only define as Olivia. She was surrounding him. His senses were being overrun by her. His hands were filled with her soft hair. He felt like he was drowning; he couldn't get any fresh air, but if he were to die now he would go down happy. Her tongue was searching for some hidden treasure in his mouth, and he though this might be what Heaven felt like.

When the need for air became too much, Elliot broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. Her eyes remained closed and every time she took a breath he felt her breasts push harder against his chest. It was sweet kind of torture. As she regained her composure, he was blindsided by the fact that tomorrow she would be gone. He knew he couldn't let this night go where it was so clearly headed.

He brought his hands back to frame her face and lifted his head. "Liv, I…" His voice faded away when she opened her eyes. Arousal was blatantly obvious. He'd put that look in hey eyes and now he was going to take it away. Damn him and his logic.

"Liv, I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in my life…but I can't be with you only once." He continued even when her eyes closed. He spoke with more force, but it came out in a whisper. "Olivia, listen to me. When we finally sleep together I don't want to have it be a one time thing. You're gonna leave tomorrow, and we have no clue when you'll be coming back. I can't put myself through that. It would torture. Because when I sleep with you, I'm going to want to do it again," he pressed his lips to hers, "and again," kiss, "and again." He kept his lips pressed to hers until he felt her respond.

"Do you understand?" He asked when they parted and she opened her eyes again.

"Yeah. When did you become so logical?"

"I'm not. It's a self-preservation thing. Come on." He started walking towards the bedroom again.

"I thought you said we couldn't sleep together." She said as she trailed after him.

"We're not. We're just gonna sleep together." He threw her a grin over his shoulder as they crossed the threshold into his room. "I have some shorts and a shirt if you want something more comfortable." Elliot retrieved the items when she nodded. "The bathroom's there. I'll change out here."

While Olivia changed and did her thing in the bathroom, he stripped down to his boxers and a pair of basketball shorts. He turned down the covers on the bed, wondering what side of the bed she slept on. Whenever he'd seen her sleeping it had been in the crib or in the car on a stakeout, never anywhere big enough for him to know what side of the bed she slept on. It was the little things he didn't know; the things he wanted most to know.

By the time Olivia emerged from the bathroom he'd climbed into bed and switched off the lights. The only light streamed in through the hallway from the light they'd left on in the living room. When she'd settled down and they were both silent, Elliot turned to lay on his side facing her.

"Hey, Liv?"

"Yeah, El." She turned her head to look at him, but remained on her back.

"What side of the bed do you sleep on?"

A puzzled smile graced her lips and she moved closer to him. "Your side, Elliot. I sleep on you side."

"My side?" Did that mean she wanted him to move? He would switch with her if it meant she was comfortable.

"Yeah, your side." She moved slowly, but with confidence.

Elliot watched as she turned her back to him and scooted across the bed until her back rested against his chest. She used his right arm as a pillow and pulled his left arm around her body. She held his left hand in both of hers and brought it up to rest it against her cheek.

"Your side." She stated quietly once she was settled.

Elliot smiled and squeezed her tighter against him. "My side."

Later, when the conversation had ceased and both of them were close to sleep Elliot glanced down at her profile. She was relaxed, maybe for the first in months. It left him stunned, in light of the way their partnership had been going lately, that she could relax in his presence let alone in his arms. He'd decided long ago that he had done something truly heroic in a previous life, because the moment Olivia had walked into his life he'd been blessed.

"Hey, Liv?"

"Hmm." Her eyes stayed shut and her voice was muddled with sleep.

"You know I love you, right?"

Her eyes opened slowly and she turned her head to look at him. "I know."

Their lips met in a soft kiss that had Elliot's heart picking up pace and his hands roaming. He broke the kiss before he did something he knew they would both kick themselves for later.

"Go to sleep, Liv. I'll wake you when it's time." He pressed his lips to her brow and settled behind her once more.

It took only a few seconds for her to find sleep. Elliot, however, wouldn't sleep tonight. He would spend the night memorizing the way she breathed, the way her hair fell across the his pillow, the way her eyelashes settled on her cheeks. He studied the way she felt against his body, the way she smelled and thought about the fact that he probably wouldn't wash the sheet for as long as possible.

He fought sleep when it cam for him and stayed awake by running his hands over her skin. Soft, she was so soft. When his kids were babies he couldn't get enough of their skin. The innocence it represented awed him. Olivia's skin was much the same, but didn't hold the innocence of infantry. Her skin was soft in some places, but hard in others where she'd had to grow. He would remember what it felt like to have her skin under his hands and to have her body in his arms. He would imprint this memory on his brain and keep it until he could make more with her when she returned.

Elliot stood on the sidewalk in the brisk cold of early morning, watching her walk to the cab and he knew he would survive. He would survive the days, weeks, and months he would be without her. He would survive because he'd had one night with her. He didn't expect it to be easy; there would be times when he would miss having her around. But he would be able to pull out the memory he'd spent the night making and he would survive until she returned. To him.

**End**


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